The Chosen One
by Jjanda Solo
Summary: Ever wonder how Anakin's conception came about? This is one idea...


Disclaimer: The universe in which this story was conceived (good   
word for it, huh?), and the characters of Anakin and Shmi belong   
to George Lucas. Any good ideas floating around in my head are   
no doubt copied from someone else who is much more creative   
than I and much better at telling stories and making them   
interesting (not Threepio, obviously), but I think this particular   
story is pretty original to me. Any knowledge I may exhibit on   
DNA or genetics was no doubt forced upon me by my Biology   
teacher, Mr. Engelman (thanks). Skieve and Ben Skywalker are   
my original creations. Please keep my name and email address and   
at least some of my disclaimers on this wherever it goes. I guess   
that about covers it.  
  
Other Stuff: This is definitely what I would call a "what if" kind of   
story, of sorts, so don't take it too seriously. I'm afraid it may   
create more questions than it answers, but if anyone cares to ask   
I'll be glad to explain all I'm able to. I love writing email. And   
so, without further adieu...  
  
  
The Chosen One  
By Jjanda Solo  
perfect3solo@yahoo.com  
  
Look into my ice-blue eyes,  
The past and future all are lies,  
The present nothing but surprise, and  
Don't you understand?  
-Skieve Skywalker  
  
Skieve Skywalker was somewhere between earth and sky,   
somewhere between past and present, somewhere between life and   
death, and somewhere between reality and fantasy. But he was a   
Jedi Master. He had been dead for a thousand generations, but his   
name had lived on.   
  
Until recently.   
  
Things had happened, many of them not good things, until the   
name of Skywalker had almost died entirely. But it was not gone   
completely, not quite. There remained one with that name. A   
slave on a planet that none would look twice at unless they were   
absolutely desperate, and a female at that.  
  
But none of that really mattered, except to reaffirm what he had to   
do. He would not let his name die.  
  
"Is she Force sensitive?" asked another voice nearby. Or perhaps   
he did not speak. Perhaps the words were transmitted through the   
Force. Skieve could not honestly remember which method it was   
they employed, and it mattered little.  
  
"No, she is not, Ben," Skieve answered.  
  
Ben sighed. Or was it only the mental equivalent of a sigh? "What   
is it you propose to do, again?" he asked wearily. Skywalker was   
his name as well. He had been an ancestor, in fact, of Skieve's, but   
he did not see why they had to go to such lengths. The impossible   
was commonplace for Jedi, but the extra-impossible?  
  
"Restore my name and my power to the dying realm of Jedi,"   
Skieve returned tightly, his voice both eerie and regal at once.   
"You know fully well they will not survive as they are. None of   
them will be able to withstand Sidious and..." he trailed off.  
  
"And her son," Ben completed the sentence. To the living Jedi the   
future was always in motion, but to them it was often clear and still   
as a lake of crystal, and so it was now. The future was changeable   
as far as whether or not the child would be born, but once that   
factor was decided, all things were set and ready for destiny to   
unfold in a singularly predictable and pre-decided manner.  
  
"Yes," Skieve admitted softly. "That I know as well as you. But   
her grandson, and granddaughter for that matter, will restore order   
to the galaxy. And restore balance to the Force."  
  
"But back to the original question," Ben returned. "What I meant   
was, 'How do you propose to do this?'"  
  
Skieve looked down, unto the surface of the desert planet below   
them, or was it merely beside them? The buildings were solid, but   
through the eyes of the Force they were nothing more than   
transparent. He searched until he found what he was looking for.   
It was night there, and his eyes in the Force at last rested on a   
sleeping woman. "The Force will impregnate her," he said, deadly   
serious.  
  
You mean you will, Ben thought, but didn't say. "Who's genes will   
you use?" he asked.  
  
Skieve smiled a little mischievously, but the expression was gone   
almost before it came. "Mine," he answered, then smiled once   
again, or did he merely transfer the thought of a smile? "Her   
grandson will look almost exactly like me."  
  
In that case... "Skieve," Ben began gently, "I believe you have   
returned to life once or twice before, by different means. You   
could live physically for a short time, and..."  
  
"No," the other answered firmly. There would be no argument on   
the subject. "I have been faithful to Katanaya for my entire life,   
and death, and subsequent lives, and will remain so. And, more   
importantly, he may not get trained as a Jedi if... oh." He stopped   
and realized the futility and error what he had just been saying. It   
was his name and power that they were after, not his training. It   
would actually be better for the galaxy at large if he was not   
trained, but...  
  
Ben had realized the same thing. "You see," he said. "Everything   
would be better that way. Kat would understand, I am sure, and I   
believe you would have no trouble seducing her." The Jedi Master   
said the word scientifically, with no shame, and Skieve reaffirmed   
to himself that that was not something he wanted to do. It was not   
Jedi like. Of course, the rules did change when you died, and   
changed many times again by the time you'd been dead as long as   
Skieve had. But still...  
  
"Still no," Skieve returned, confidently, "and you know it. There   
would be no way to be sure that her child would even be Force   
sensitive, or male for that matter!"  
  
"Then don't seduce her," Ben returned. Why did he have to keep   
using that word? "You could still use artificial means if you wish   
to be selective as to..."  
  
This had indeed gone far enough. "In that case there is no   
advantage to appearing physically. None. I know what you're   
going to say: that there is an advantage because then I'll at least   
have the genetic material there to work with. But that's not really   
what I want anyway. This kid's going to be powerful. He'll have   
to be. Even my genetic material, when paired up with hers, will   
not be enough."  
  
It was just beginning to dawn on Ben just how impossible they   
were talking about here, and if he'd had a body his mouth would   
have dropped open in absolute shock.   
  
Some people think 'impossible' is an absolute term, but Jedi,   
especially that have been dead for thousands of years, know better.   
To levitate a small rock is impossible, yet many people will find it   
believable, given the chance. To levitate an X-Wing is more   
impossible, and even half-trained Jedi can have trouble believing   
it. To alter things on a planetary level is still more impossible, but   
still within the believable realm. Moving a planet is the same as   
moving a golf ball, it's just on a larger scale. The most impossible   
things truly are not the largest, but rather the smallest. To break   
down and rebuild some of the most complex molecules of them all   
was perhaps as impossible as you could get.  
  
"So what are you planning to do, exactly?" Ben finally asked.  
  
Skieve's answer confirmed his worst fears, or greatest imaginings.   
"I'll 'borrow' one of her own cells, break down, reform, and halve   
the DNA from it, add a good number of Midi-Chlorians to it, then   
mix it with her half."  
  
Such a thing had never been done before, and the chances were it   
would never be done again. Jedi with far more experience and   
even far more power than Skieve would never try such a thing.   
  
"Is this really so important to you?" Ben asked, the question   
hanging between them in the Force.  
  
"Yes." The single word carried all the power and conviction of the   
ancient Jedi's entire existence. "I don't see how you can consider   
any other option. Even without Vader to do his hunting, Darth   
Sidious will still hunt down and destroy the Jedi. This you know.   
The dark side is not more powerful, but for a time it can seem so.   
If this woman's grandchildren are not born," he motioned back   
down towards the desert hut below, "the Empire will reign for a   
thousand generations. Even if there is still a successful rebellion,   
without the Jedi it will not survive." He paused, waiting for a   
response. There was none. Ben knew too well that he had more to   
say.  
  
Skieve started again. "You know very well how difficult it is to   
train a Jedi when there are no living Jedi. You also know that it   
could be a thousand years before we even find an optional acolyte   
for such an experiment. It took you over 200 years to find Kat and   
I. And what about the balance of the Force, the balance of the   
Masters?"  
  
All true. "You think you are in fact capable of this feat?" Ben   
asked. The words whispered on the Force around them, around the   
entire universe. They flowed through the desert planet below,   
judging once and for all the fate of the name of Skywalker, and the   
galaxy in which it existed.  
  
"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no think,   
there is only know or know not. There is no try, there is only do or   
do not. I know, and I will do."  
  
"You are the Master," Ben replied, simply stating the facts, "and   
from this immaculate conception will come other Masters and part   
of a new generation of Jedi Knights. Do."  
  
The first of a thousand generations of galaxy wide Jedi, blonde and   
blue eyed in life, looked back again at his descendant, a simple   
slave in a simple sandstone hut on a planet never intended to   
support her species of life. And, reaching out with the Force, he   
began an operation the like of which the galaxy had never seen.   
  
Stealing a single unimportant cell from her body near the point of   
conception, Skieve's strong mind carefully unstrung and restrung   
the proverbial ladder rungs of adenine, guanine, thymine, and   
cytosine, restructuring that single cell's deoxyribonucleic acid, the   
genetic map of life. Now that single cell reflected differences from   
the DNA her other cells had. It was hers, but was one thousand   
generations less diluted, and wanting only the strong Force that   
should flow through it. And just a thing or two more.  
  
Skieve now took the newly modified cell, which now held what   
had been in life his own genetic code, and began to restructure it,   
dividing the genes selectively apart, leaving only the best that   
could not be obtained from the unchanged set of genes she would   
contribute. He changed the shape of the genetic material's casing   
some, until at last it was fully prepared for a conception with only   
one parent and yet a whole new and yet old set of genetic   
information. A whole new look. Only one thing was now lacking.  
  
The Force.  
  
The genetic material of millennia of great Force users was present,   
and yet the Force, though a genetic trait, was not and would never   
be a part of one's DNA. Somehow it transcended even that, and   
now the realm of the truly impossible would come into play. Till   
now he had been modifying what existed, but now he would in   
essence create something from nothing.  
  
The long dead Jedi Master began to gather the Force together. It   
was a task like trying to gather the waters of the ocean into a   
mountain of water and leave the rest of the ocean floor dry:   
fundamentally impossible to accomplish, but even getting 0.01%   
of the way there would imply an amount of power so monumental   
there was nothing that could not be accomplished. A paradox, like   
the paradox of creating something from nothing, like the paradox   
of joining your genetic material with that of one of your   
descendants, like the paradox of an immaculate conception.   
  
The power gathered, threatening to overwhelm the balance of the   
cosmos. If Skieve had been a physical entity in a physical   
location, the power would have overloaded and destroyed him and   
all of his surroundings, but now it could not. If he had been evil he   
could have channeled this power into the destruction of whole   
worlds and systems, or perhaps all of life in this galaxy, or even   
the universe. But such power was never given to evil, and the   
power itself, like the Midi-Chlorians in all life, was neither evil nor   
good, it just was. It was, and they would be.  
  
At last, having gathered that miniscule but so great percent of the   
ocean of the Force together, and concentrated it even more if that   
were possible, the Master used a tiny portion of it to create a   
focusing lens through which the rest of it poured with all the power   
of the ocean pouring through the eye of a needle, coming to rest on   
the two cells even now joining together, as if of their own accord.   
The energy was like light: pure power effecting everything it   
would touch or even come near. As it hit the now single dividing   
cell, the process was accelerated, and the absence of any defects   
made certain. But that was not its only effect. As it was so   
concentrated in a single spot so rich with new life, the pure energy   
began to become the most miniscule possible portions of living   
matter, creating something from nothing in truth. As they came to   
be these too began to divide and multiply, filling all of the new   
cells with an increased awareness of life, an increased awareness   
of this amazing ocean of power.   
  
At last the deed was accomplished, and the rest of the stream of   
power was dissipated back into the rest of the universe, even while   
this new life began to create its own small part of this great power.   
Across the galaxy, other events began to spiral together into their   
sure destiny, like a planet orbiting a black hole, its eventual demise   
certain. A certain Jedi's Padawan came to have a greater purpose   
he would ever have dreamed of. On the planet of Naboo a very   
young girl was being prepared for the throne. On Corellia two   
people were predestined to come together and create life again, a   
life that would become a part of this new lineage. A girl not to be   
born for many years was selected as the personal assistant and   
assassin of the one who would become Emperor. With the   
conception sure the other events began to lock unchangeably into   
place, and time was again an undisturbed and perfectly clear pool,   
a tiny piece of the great ocean.   
  
The operation had taken the whole night, and the twin suns were   
just beginning to dawn as the dead Jedi quietly withdrew, the deed   
done. Skieve Skywalker could feel Ben and all of the others near   
him, all approving even while some would never approve, another   
paradox. But he had done what destiny demanded, and the balance   
of the Force would be restored.  
  
"Our work here is done," Ben said, the words traveling through the   
suddenly murky ocean to Skieve's perception.  
  
"I understand," the other answered, agreeing silently as well as   
aloud.  
  
"This will bring a lot of pain to their galaxy," Skieve's onetime   
teacher added, as if making a last plea, already too late.  
  
"Yes, but it will also bring much redemption, much power, much   
joy, and their only chance," Skieve replied, almost reverently.   
Though he had done the thing it had been really no more his choice   
than anyone else's. He too was only following the dictates of   
destiny and the Force.  
  
"Is he the chosen one?" Ben asked, remembering well things they   
had engineered in the past.  
  
Skieve did not answer immediately; he knew the other Jedi Master   
had all the time and patience in the galaxy. Instead he looked out   
over the landscape before him, at the beautiful twin sunrise, and   
down at the slave woman in the hut, who was no doubt unaware of   
her noble lineage. She was just beginning to stir awake, as yet   
unaware of the new life within her. "Yes," he spoke at last, his   
words carrying out over the entire desert world before them,   
though they only existed in the invisible water of the Force, "I have   
chosen him, and he will be the Chosen One."  



End file.
